Jan 042018

Anal sex is something that just recently occured in my life, and to date I’ve probably engaged in it about five times, including the first time when I was forced. Because of the rocky start that first time, it was something that I felt I needed to do again, and do it correctly with someone I trusted and shortly after that experience so that I didn’t turn it into something far more dramatic (like getting back on a bike after falling off?). The second time was complicated, especially with moving on from the previous experience, but I’m grateful I tried anal again. The third time was because I believe I should try something at least twice before passing judgment and the first time didn’t count.

Now? It’s meh. Mr. Texas has been the depth of my experience in this and he realized it was a go-to when he felt frustrated with me (something he had every right to feel in between all the reconciliation attempts with my ex-husband). Since he discovered that motivating factor for him, and because I am so neutral on the whole experience, we haven’t had anal sex in quite some time. Mr. Texas also isn’t the biggest fan, though I believe this to be because it was a turn off for him until we decided to give it a go and he’s slow to change his opinion on things.

So no, I don’t have a thing for anal sex, though at times I quite like anal stimulation.

I’ve also been the giver with pegging my ex-husband and my take away was it was hot to watch him be pleased but didn’t do much for myself, though I did learn that the thrusting motions are far easier from that side than to bounce up and down or even grind as the person being penetrated on top – no wonder men in my life can go forever if they want to.

I’ve also learned that having anal sex makes me feel more submissive somehow, less likely to make decisions or give a call to action – I want him to be pleased first and foremost. Anal sex isn’t unpleasant, I’ve even orgasmed from it, but it’s certainly not my kink and nor something I believe I’ll actively pursue (at least, not yet; my kinks have certainly expanded over time).

Nov 142017


“Are you sure you’re ready?”

No I wasn’t sure! The last time Michael and I had attempted anal sex with me on the receiving end met with disaster. (See the story here).  I didn’t want to fail or disappoint, and I was so nervous.

I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted to feel him slide smoothly inside of me. I wanted to be lost in the pleasure of his arms. I wanted to be consumed wholly, and I wanted to have anal sex.

I just wasn’t sure I was ready. Sometimes, athletes and actors talk about being nervous. Those jitters that seem to take over the entirety of their being to the lose of anything else. In the midst of these jitters, just when the curtain is about to raise or they take their first step onto the field, the sudden blazing moment of clarity comes and nothing is left to be worried about, no fear or anxiety. This is it, it’s time to perform.

That in no way happened to me. Not even a little. I was just a ball of anxiety to the point where (and I had to be told later because I didn’t realize it was out loud) I was MUTTERING for Christ’s sake; “ok, ok, just relax, relax, relax. Ok, you can do this! Relax!” I’m sure this did nothing but convince Michael of my readiness.

Then, a soft sigh on my neck as he gently kissed the spot behind my ear that instantly sends pleasure through me. A whispered compliment of how beautiful my ass was and how very much he wanted me. I was ready. Still nervous- but ready.

Michael, ever the in-tune lover, slid in like a pro. Smoothing skin here, a moan of pleasure/encouragement, a vibrator to keep my body humming and ready to find release. This was the point we had gotten to last time, I decided, why raise the bar too high? If he got in anything over one stroke I was ahead of the game, I’d take it!

Michael ever so slowly pulled out a couple inches. I didn’t move. Steady like a rock I was! I was the champ, I had done it, we could call it a game! With my flagging confidence bolstered, I thought, “well…we’ve made it this far. Let’s see how far we can take this…” Within the first few tentative strokes I decided that I could handle it. Still weird, still a bit uncomfortable, but I could handle this. Kind of.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I can do it, I can do it… But Michael? You’re gonna have to hurry up ok? I don’t know how long I can do this”

“Ok.” Half stroke. “Oh God, you have no idea how easy that’s going to be.” Michael was true to his word. Hot, passionate, extremely brief, then suddenly, a shudder. A tightening of the grasping of my hips, my name escaping his lips in a part groan part sigh. I instantly perked up.

“Wait… Did you cum? DID YOU DO IT!?!”

“Yes, I came” was the chuckling reply.

Then as quickly as I had maneuvered away the first time we had anal penetration, I flipped around in a flash and did the only thing anyone who has just successfully had anal sex from beginning to end would do…

I high five’d him. That’s right. I threw my splayed hand in the air and gave him the heartiest high five I believe I have ever given in my life. The words that accompanied this were a bit jumbled, but they went something along the lines of.

“Oh-my-God-yay! I-knew-we-could-do-it. I AM FUCKING AWESOME!”

I’ve found at times like these, it’s best to maintain an air of worldliness and refinement. The look on Michael’s face was priceless. He looked at me, looked at his hand that he’s put up immediately in reflex to receive my proffered digits, looked at me again, and in the most deadpan voice inquired, “did you really just high five me?”

I paused for a moment in my victory dance/butt wiggle to assure him that yes, yes I had just high five’d him and he had better prepare himself for more if I so chose to share in the delight of accomplishment with him.

Any other man would’ve thought I was crazy. Any other man wouldn’t have cared enough about me to take his time and do it properly, and he wouldn’t have even have gotten that far. This was Michael however and he was all the things I could ask for in a lover. So he chuckled, shook his head again while looking at his hand, then cuddled and kissed me.

It was a great experience and incredibly pleasurable. We have since gone on to continue our anal explorations and it keeps getting better. We don’t do it all the time, but neither of us certainly have any objections to it anymore.

I am also happy to report, like the conquering heroine that I am, no air was passed that day. So while Michael got the prize for taking it first, I got the one for controlling it after.

(Interested in what I did to him previously? check out stick-it-in-his-ass

January 4, 2013

Oct 302017

“Do you like her sucking your cock?” his wife asked in the backseat as he drove us to my house. Somehow I always knew that she would be that cool with another woman. Another bonus: I was using my truck the way I intended it – center console moved up so it’s a bench seat and I could have my mouth comfortably on a man as he drives. She was asking him how it felt and he described it as I gave him road head, before we reached our destination and all headed to my big bed together.


“I taste you on your fingers. Were you touching yourself?” he whispered as he separated my thighs with his hips and drew my fingers deeply into his mouth. I blushed crimson into the dark room, though I’m pretty sure he didn’t need to see me to know that. “You taste so good.”


I had no choice but to be spread open and grinding myself on the bed, as the positioning of the rope around my ankles and thighs kept me low to the bed and spread open, and the chest harness wouldn’t allow for me to move any further up, but the grinding might have actually happened once he placed the vibrator in me. Still, the bound position kept me low and bent over.

“This position is perfect for anal,” and my heart thudded with the thought that anal sex was what he had in mind as he applied lube against me. Instead, the plug hurt in a pleasurable way as he slammed it into me.


“It’s amazing how much you’ll hurt yourself for an orgasm,” he sounded amazed, but by this point Mr. Texas knows how I can get under the right circumstances. He continued to draw the curry comb against my nipples – or rather keep it pressed up against them as I scratched them back and forth painfully riding him. I would feel my nipples sore for a week, but the price was worth the pleasure.


****All different scenarios and times. Wicked Wednesday

Dec 052016

Masturbation Monday badge - smallI used to do this from time to time with my ex husband. So many grand moments admist every day moments in which I am busy with just work and family that I don’t write about them. But Texas reads me now, and some are noteworthy despite not having the time to write about them.

Anal Sex

I don’t ever try something once, I’m not sure if I’ve shared that. So we had anal sex once, and it was meh. Yet, I know I enjoy fingers from time to time, so taking my own spirit of give something a second try Texas and I tried anal sex again. This time, we took a bit more time with entry and it didn’t hurt nearly as much. We went slow and steady. It started feeling good, and Texas even came. When we were done, there was no mess and I didn’t cry. Heck, sort of my like sister did after her first anal sex attempt, I wanted to give him a high five and tell him it was a job well done.

masturbation-monday-week-118Rubbing Myself

As ridiculous as it sounds, I have never continuously rubbed myself during sex. So when Texas ordered me to finger myself as he kissed my body, and then entered me around my own fingers, he insisted I keep my fingers on my clit. The other hand he wanted me to pinch my nipples. He was unhurried as he slowly withdrew and pushed inside of me, the ridges of his shaft and underside of his head so prominent against my folds and walls.

Mimicking his pace with my fingers, I circled my clit until it was a hard nub; my other hand slowly twisted and pinched a nipple. He kept his body close, his breath heavy in my ear and I turned my head and nibbled on the side of his neck, listening to how his breathing changed with the different sensations my teeth and tongue created.

In, a long slow stroke where the tip of his head rubbed against so many places. My core tensed and my muscles followed the thickest part of him and clenched along his shaft not wanting him to leave. I moaned and breathed in when he hit as far back as he was going to, smelling the clean scent of his body.

Out, he moved as unhurriedly, giving me the opportunity to feel every single contour of him and my body tensed even further as not wanting him to completely withdraw. Even my fingers tensed: the hardened nub seemed even more exposed from lips parted open for so long and I pressed harder, circled faster, my nipple creating a pain sensation that connected and seemed to add strength to my muscles trying to refuse his movement. I exhaled and bit down on his shoulder when his head poised at my entrance.



Such a maddeningly slow pace. It created so much tension in my body that my shoulders lifted off the bed and I could smell the slight scent of our sweat and our sex. With my own fingers, I pressed harder.

“You’re so tense, so tight,” he groaned as my body shuddered into an orgasm before tensing again into an echo of another – a smaller, faster orgasm. A long breath and shaking body. More tension, my stomach hurt from the slight way I arched up and clenching down upon him inside of me. My breaths were even against me as when a slow tension-filled orgasm began building, I would alternate holding my breath and remembering I had to breathe, crying out in pleasure with every inhale and exhale.

His chest pressed into my breasts, crisp coarse hair against the sensitive nipple I was not currently pinching, and my shoulders felt the cool sheets again, though they did not relax into the mattress.

At such a slow pace, my body could only tense and orgasm.

By the time he found his own release, again commenting of how I gripped him the entire time, we were both sweaty and catching our breath.

When he withdrew and moved to the side of me to hold me, he whispered that we would have to do that a bit more.

I sleepily replied that tensioned orgasms exhaust me, and drifted off to his fingertips grazing my back as my front was kept warm along the side of his body.


Nov 292016

After I had sex in front of strange men and then left to clean up, I came back to the porn room in the swinger’s club and talked with some female friends sitting and chatting with David as he cleaned and sanitized the room. They expressed they were sad they missed the show we obviously gave, then mentioned how they had tried the sybian in the next room, inquired if I had tried the machine. I was already overcome with shyness and not talking much by this point, not to mention that was I was very tired from the day’s events, so didn’t do much more than shake my head. When I expressed that I had not but I was curious to try, David took my hand and steered me towards that room.

Yes, I was tired, and incredibly shy, but I was so very curious, and really my curiosity almost always wins.

He went to the front desk and got the “box of cocks” for the machine, and the front lady sat in the room and explained things about the machine before leaving the room. I picked what she said was a favorite dildo for many, and then David took the control. I asked him to shut the door, as I had a feeling he would have preferred it open to give an audience a show again.

He shut the door and told me to get fully naked. As I was undressing, he played with the controls and figured out how the machine worked. I slipped a condom over the dildo and straddled the machine, leaning forward the way the lady advised.

David started very slowly and I didn’t really get a lot out of it. At about fifty percent power, it felt good, but I had just had multiple orgasms, so a lot felt good. On stronger, it did give me an orgasm, but again – that was only because I had just multipled. The machine on its own would not give me my first orgasm, as it vibrates more than penetrates, and I prefer thrusting.

Once I stated I was done, David announced he was going to try a smaller attachment. I was super excited that he was going to try it too. While I removed my attachment and cleaned it, David undressed and then used a lot of lube and a condom. It took him a minute to get comfortable with it being inserted anally. I sat in a chair with the controls, watching his magnificent bottom and thighs tense and move as he adjusted himself. Once he was ready, I started slow, the same way he did. I noticed he liked the insertable moving more than the vibrations so focused on that power for a bit, paying close attention to his magnificent body language and his noises.

He told me to come around towards the front of him when the power was about at fifty percent. I took his erect cock in my mouth and used suction until he was at the back of my throat, stroking what was left of his shaft with my hand. He moaned, and I turned up the power and then set the control down next to me, using my other hand to caress his testicles as my tongue, lips, and hand stroked the rest of him. Every so often I would turn up the power until he was eventually at full power. His hand went to the back of my head and he grunted for me to keep it up and drain him dry. My fingertips felt the tension in his balls, the throbbing in my hand, his powerful release hitting the back of my throat so hard my tongue didn’t even have a chance to taste it. He held me there as long as his orgasm lasted, making the hottest sounds of satisfaction above my head.

I made sure I did truly suck him dry and then slowly dialed back all the power. I expressed how hot I found that.

I love when a man orgasms, when he finds his release with me in some regard, when he verbalizes and his body shows just how good it feels. It’s been my limited experience that men tend to orgasm so much harder with anal stimulation as well. And while anally stimulating men is not a fetish of mine, I absolutely adore being witness to a hard orgasm.

Oct 302016

So, this week has been very anal intensive with my writings. The reason is because last week I went over to Mr. Texas’ house (yes, we’re back together) and we had drinks and hot tub time. We had already discussed no sex, because I tore from the prior weekend’s sexfest and needed to heal up for a few days.

“No penetration,” he said, shaking my hand but negotiating for making out.

I didn’t want to make out. Our making out always ended in sex. But I shook hands on our tentative deal. And we made out in amidst the chilly fall air and heat of the water. His finger went to roam around my anus, and when he attempted to insert a bit, I commented that we needed lube.

“So let’s get lube then,” he stated, holding out a hand to help me out of the hot tub.

I should’ve known the bed is not a good place to go when avoiding sex.

In bed, he used a generous amount of lube and fingered me to an anal orgasm – a rarity and one that I was shocked that I experienced. As he nibbled on my neck, he whispered that it was too bad that we decided we didn’t want to try anal sex, because it was the perfect opportunity to try it.

He had a point; I had just orgasmed anally from fingering, I wondered if I could from sex. I felt terrified, but tried to sort out the emotion and felt that maybe it was because the one and only time before that was so horrible.

Shouldn’t I get over that experience?

“Yes, we should, but it requires a lot of lube.”

“We should what?”

“Try it.”

“What is it?” The clarification of consent was crucial to him, it seemed, after my sharing of the last experience.

“Anal sex.”

The problem with a man who just began inserting a finger, and wasn’t educated on it, was he immediately pushed himself in after applying a lot of lube (or at least it felt that way).

I jumped up and away from him, complaining of how badly it hurt.

He apologized profusely, felt terrible about hurting me. He said he was barely in, and I needed to relax.

I laid back down on my stomach and was willing to give it another try.

…And he moved slowly the second go round, telling me to breathe and relax.

…And it hurt, but it may have been from the first attempt.

…And I should have worked up to sex, instead of barely getting any anal stimulation and going from a finger thinking I could do more.

…And I was getting over my anal issue, dammit, so I breathed and willed myself to relax and he stroked in and out until it was just a dull uncomfortable.*

He slid out too far by mistake, and in looking down, saw a mess, so we stopped there.

Not the most successful, but for me, it was an uphill mental battle far more than anything physical.

I don’t know if I’ll try anal sex again, but I’m hoping to no longer feel sick to my stomach terrified of it.

And I cried, goodness how I cried after we were done.

…I didn’t want him to view me as disgusting (he had stated when we first started dating that he viewed anal sex as disgusting) and I was messy. Would he leave me (and was that a remnant feeling that my ex left me with)? What if he didn’t like the experience and I forever hurt his chances of liking it because I was a wimp with how badly it hurt?

…And I cried because I was overcoming the last time; the memory flooded back in great waves and threatened to drown me in the panic.

Mr. Texas pulled me into a shower where he held me for a long time before washing us up, before holding me again, before pulling us out and drying us off. He pulled me into bed and held me until I was strong enough to hold my composure.

He thanked me for allowing us both to experience anal sex for the first time together.

And I was grateful he put that spin on it (even knowing the experience I was overcoming), because he was right, it was the first time.

Because I felt like I wanted to experience anal sex, and that made all the difference.


*It may have felt good had not the first slide-in hurt so badly; a fact that I am pondering a lot.

Oct 272016

I wrote a post back in February on trying anal sex for the first time with my husband – who had just left me weeks prior. I stated I felt that it needed a trigger warning, but I wasn’t sure why.

And then I sat on the post for four months because he didn’t want me to post it, was outright upset with it, and I thought (and still think) it’s because it showed he cheated on his monogamous girlfriend with his wife.

I posted it when he did some asshole things to me and why should I care and protect him? Also, because the bad decisions of that weekend still nagged at me, and I felt that I didn’t read enough real stories of desperate people trying to hold onto a relationship with terrible decisions (like how I was the other woman and trying all sorts of new things with my ex).

It shocked me to see the consent issue come up, because I hadn’t thought of it, but once I read the comment, that was exactly why I felt like it needed a trigger warning. (It’s hard to believe I didn’t think of it, now, when my writing definitely looks like non consent.)

And then his girlfriend felt the urge to defend him and question me in the commentary, and while she didn’t state it was her, I knew it was and confirmed it with him. (She interacted several times with me but I didn’t keep the entirety of the interactions because I feel it is inappropriate that she addressed me at all – I never once addressed her on anything.)

“You made it seem like rape,” he declared, upset, defending her action.

“It felt like it was at the moment,” I shot back, and then realized…yes, it did.

It was not the consensual non consent scene, hell, it wasn’t even edge play by either of our standards. When he proposed anal sex before he came that weekend, I told him probably not, but that I would think on it. That morning I told him I wasn’t interested in it. And then he pushed for it during a head space a bit foggy with orgasms. And while I said maybe, I did not say yes. And when he pushed for it, I told him no. And when I asked him to stop, he blood-chocked me unconscious.

The fallout led me to crying hysterically for hours and finally crying myself to sleep. It led to him yelling at me to get a grip on myself and my emotions. It led to me not being to articulate what bothered me so badly about the experience. It left me seriously depressed (or maybe that was being divorced, ditched, all the way across the country from my support system?).

And it wasn’t until the comment that consent wasn’t given that I realized why this moment devastated me so fully.

But let me perfectly clear – I am not calling this rape.

Maybe this is where the shades of gray and debate can come out.

I am only saying that it felt like rape; and this is the first and only time I have felt like that.

First and foremost, while my safeword did not occur to me, I did have one. My ex truly expected me to use it.

We have talked about this sensitive topic since then; I truly do not believe that he meant for the experience to feel the way that it did. I believe that he expected me to safeword if I felt that strongly about “no” after talking to him months later. And I truly did not even think about using a safeword, felt like my “no” and “stop” were enough; after all – just the day prior we discussed needing the safeword before a scene. I didn’t use a safeword with him just having sex with him – never felt that was needed.

Perhaps this is a horrible complication with using safewords, when stop and no don’t always mean stop and no.

I still take responsibility.

I am still his friend, and still hope to be so. I hope he doesn’t take offense, as I mean none, in reflecting on anal this week.

And I still feel that the scene needs a trigger warning – if nothing else for me – I can’t even reread it and haven’t since I wrote it (other than the third italic sentence I added in the beginning to clarify a comment). Hell, even reflecting on it, I feel sick.

Oct 252016

So my slutfest first introduced this type of thinking and my online dating adventures have definitely continued it. Men, who if I had met them in person would probably never have broached anal sex without really knowing me better, were asking if: a) I would have sex with them; and b) did I do anal? Yet from the relative safety of anonymity behind a screen, felt like anal would be a good topic to approach me with immediately, before meeting me.

Now, let’s separate my online approaches with slutfest versus honestly wanting a dating experience with.

Slutfest: my online profile was created by my beautifully creative sister, A. She was the one who coined the slutfest experience between her and girlfriends after a bad breakup. I would have never presented myself so boldly, but she did a great job – there was no question that I wanted to have sex with men with no strings attached. I didn’t want a conversation, I did not want a date, I wanted them to come to my house and fuck me.

So the men who responded might have felt so bold to address their sexual needs and desires with a virtual stranger before meeting up.

But what surprised me is that every single man asked about anal sex and if they could have anal sex with me. Slutty doesn’t mean use every hole I have indiscriminately – though at least most of them checked first before trying to have surprise butt sex.

Up until that point, I had only had anal stimulation, and only with one man, my husband. I told them I was uninterested, and I was. One man did give me anal stimulation and even tried for anal sex after I expressed my disinterest.

Dating: so my first few months produced one vanilla guy after another after another. Not too big of a deal, as that’s how Mr. Texas and I discovered each other, but I have already learned that I just can’t be without kink in some regards. No one asked for anal, no one approached me for sex, it was getting to know you questions and I was perfectly fine with that. But I at least needed to date someone who was open minded to kink, because after the vague getting to know you stage, we just weren’t compatible.

So I modified my online profile to state that I was kinky and would need someone who was open minded.

And opened the flood gates where apparently being kinky equates to being easy, being indiscriminate about having sex, to the anal approach as a first question. I am always a bit surprised by assumptions: sluts can be discriminate about who they have sex with; kink does not equate to sex or even anal sex (though it can).

What had changed since then is that I had engaged in anal sex and it was a terrible experience. Having lost my anal virginity, as it were, didn’t change my interest in the act at all.

And I don’t view anal sex as being kinky.

There is something about being online that brings out the bolder people, I’ve noticed. I sincerely doubt men would approach me with these topics in person just introducing ourselves, and I have even less confidence that they would approach anal sex as a desire from the get-go. Perhaps it’s because I address kink in my profile that men now compelled comfortable enough to approach anal, but kink was added for a compatibility issue not to state that I was looking for quick anal hookups rather than getting to know a partner and dating them.

What is about anal sex that men on online dating sites seem to be looking for? It’s like the elusive unicorn for a threesome.

I have nothing against anal (it just wasn’t for me), but I am baffled by how this seems to be a trend with online hookups/dating.
Wicked Wednesday

Oct 232016

So, after a long separation from Mr Texas, I started picking back up with him again. Our kids saw each other still, so it’s not like I sought him out.

After a week of sex, where his fingers slipped once or twice between my drenched cheeks and I moaned in appreciation of the anal stimulation outside, I decided I was going to work up the nerve to ask for it.

Understand: this is a big deal to me. I am shy about anything to do with the topic of anal for some reason. I had also, perhaps foolishly, decided that since my one and only experience with anal sex was so miserable that I shouldn’t like anal stimulation at all, that it made no sense.

As we were drinking in the hot tub – gosh I missed our hot tub times, his fingers brought me to an orgasm and intentionally slid back afterwards. I sighed in appreciation.

“Do you like your butt hole played with?”

I was mortified- he just came right out and said it in that abrupt and undignified way he had. (It’s true: he once said that I was like a pig in the mud when it came to kink events.)

And he had already stated that he had zero interest with anything to do with anal from the very first day of our relationship. What would he think of me?

But I had already resolved to ask for at least outside stimulation, so I hid my blushing face and nodded. He knows when he turns me shy.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me. You’re so open about things.”

“This one is hard for me,” I muttered into the jetted water.

“Okay. Do you want to try it tonight?” I hesitated, then nodded. I wanted to drown in embarrassment. “Well then let’s try it. How do I go about it? I haven’t even done anything like this before.”

I was relieved he handled the matter so well.

I had been embarrassed about asking my ex husband for it, but my husband wanted to do all types of anal play, so it felt safer to ask for it after he made me realize I liked it.

But Mr. Texas – vanilla and stated already his distaste for anything anal – that was a scary experience.

He keeps reassuring me that he is more open minded, that he realized he was judgmental without being exposed to things first, and that he would try to get more out of his comfort zones if I was patient.

I was trusting in that as I opened my mouth and explained what kind of stimulation I was wanting.

Aug 142016

So with my husband and I reconciling, one of the first things on his list was anal play for him. He hadn’t experienced it in months and I think that he was even made to feel that it was viewed negatively in some regard.

He missed it.

He had thrown out all the toys that he was in possession of that we had split, so we no longer had the very cool dildo that went beautifully with our harness (and also fit inside of me with vibrations); I was still in possession of the harness. So, off we went to a sex store where we found just a standard dildo that the harness would hold in. It was more malleable than the other dildo, which actually helped cut down on me accidentally hurting him; the downside is when I really got going it would slip out a little easier. It was also lighter, so while nothing was inserted into me, at least it stayed put in the harness a bit better.

Armed and ready, we were going to try pegging again.

Actually, it was a scene that I was giving him with pegging so he laid down tied in the center of the bed with a pillow under his bottom. I started with softer sensations (he dislikes pain of any kind). My hands would roam and my mouth was active the whole time:

tongues danced together with gentle caresses reaquainting fingertips with his body, soft sighs and a building of passion and love and trust;

blindfolding him with a soft leather strip so he could focus more on the physical sensations and less visually, my mouth hovering above his own as my tongue darting out to trace his lips as he tried to catch a kiss;

brushing his skin with feathers as my mouth would roam and suck at delectable areas that incited moans;

using stinging flicks of a toy as my teeth would nibble and occasionally bite, causing goosebumps and pinkened marks to appear across his body;

taking the tines of the wheel and traversing across his body as teeth would sink into muscles, causing him to jump or take sharp intakes of breath as he worked through the brief flashes of pain;
an ice cube melted in my mouth as my tongue swept across his reddened areas, cooling down the heated flesh right before I would drip hot wax from a candle, reheating the area and giving a contrast.

When I increased the sensations in roughness, I also took less care of tenderness – kissing him less, manhandling him more. When he would try to move away from a sensation, my hand was around his neck or my elbows were digging into a pressure point to keep him still, with a warning that he soon heeded to stay still and work through accepting the sensations. A black hood (a new toy of mine) with just an opening for the mouth was pulled over his face, effectively turning him more of an object that I was toying with and a mouth to fuck, as I immediately told him to stick out his tongue so I could straddle and fuck his face. I made sure to press my hips down every so often to make his breathing a little more labored as he brought me pleasure.
It wasn’t long before I placed on a glove, a lot of lube on one finger, positioned myself between his legs, and then my mouth teased the tip of his erection as I slowly circled his anus before inserting the finger. As my finger moved deeper into his body, my mouth moved lower down his shaft. Two fingers increased my sucking, which moved at the same time of my fingers – down and in, up and out. Three fingers – a bit trickier as my pinky always seems to be in the way, my tongue swirled around the ridges of his head as I inserted before attempting to deep throat him as my fingers tried to fill his body.

He sighed and moaned and groaned, his hips occasionally tried to thrust up and welcome the sensations even further. He was so hard in my mouth, occasionally pulsing at a delicious part, hitting the back of my throat at times, his muscle clenching around my fingers as they curled slightly, explored, slid in and out.
I decreased the sensations before stopping, taking off my glove and moving up his body, briefing sliding my own body to where he was inside of me and grinding on top of him while I took off his hood and kissed back his humanness. I kissed the sides of his neck as I took off his blindfold, slowing rotating my hips rather than fucking him roughly, leaned down to passionately kiss him before I slowly unraveled him to freedom, wanting him to have full use of his hands and legs. His hands immediately went to my hips to fuck us to pleasure, but I removed myself off him and told him to put me in the harness.
Less than a minute later I was again between his legs, liberally applying lubrication on my dildo, positioning it at his entrance. He seemed surprised that rather than enter him, I leaned forward and kissed him, pressing my body down on his own and telling him how much I loved him. Then I leaned up and carefully entered him, watching his face closely in between the toy disappearing into his depths. He gave me verbal feedback the whole way in, positive that it felt good, that it wasn’t hurting, that he could take more. When I was all the way in, I praised him as I leaned forward for a kiss again before straightening up and slowly easing out and then in. One hand stroked his cock and the other caressed his balls. Masturbation Monday Week 102

Soon I was fucking him, both hands gripping his hips like he so often did to me to have more leverage and go as deep as I could, and his own hand was stroking himself. I slipped out a couple of times, but eventually his body tensed and his hips lifted as his hand slowed while white spurts shot across his chest with his orgasm. It was a magnificent sight; it was verbally decadent to hear his sounds; it was incredible to create and be a part of.

I finished the scene for him with a warm wash cloth, cleaned the beautiful white streaks and hardened candle wax off his skin, had him sit up for a drink of water before rolling over so I could wipe off the excess of lube between his cheeks. I had a candle going of massage wax the whole time and poured enough over his broad expanse of back, rubbing his muscles and feeling any residue tension leave his body, before using another warm wash cloth to remove any oil that didn’t soak into his skin. I covered him with a blanket as he laid so peacefully and heard him snore before I even left the room to clean up our toys. Masturbation Monday badge - small